That Final Moment
by Skyward Princess of Time
Summary: A single day can forever change a person's life. Rated "T" for character death. Post-TP, Zelink. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the Legend of Zelda. If I did…xD  
**"**That Final Moment" is rated "T" for character death.**

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_**That Final Moment  
**__A Legend of Zelda Fanfiction_

Morning couldn't be more blissful.

Princess Zelda woke up surrounded by her usual countless layers of fluffy pillows. She created the pillow layer when she was a small child in order to make her bed appear smaller. For some reasons, royals always had obnoxiously oversized beds. The large bed, the huge room—it always made her feel hopelessly alone. She used to sneak into her father's bed at night for the extra comfort.

The bird sung as sunlight peeped through Zelda's velvet curtains. With a smile, rubbing her eyes and tossing her sleep-ruffled bangs out of her way, she knocked down that pillow barrier once and for all. She wouldn't need pillows anymore to keep her company.

Soon, starting tonight, a green-clad young hero would ensure that all of her dreams were pleasant.

Zelda skipped over to her closet like a small schoolchild and flung open the doors. Her beautiful wedding dress, a bedazzled, elegant masterpiece, fit the mannequin's perfectly shaped body. Zelda grinned, happily untying the many ribbons on the dress. It was a shame for such a beautiful piece of clothing to be wasted on an inanimate object.

The dress would look so much better on her.

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Midday couldn't be more glorious.

The morning sun was hidden behind a layer of clouds, but Zelda didn't mind too much. All she cared about was staring into her groom's peaceful blue eyes. She vaguely heard the rambles of a babbling old priest and the excited chatters of the guests. None of that mattered. He smiled, placing the ring on her delicate finger as his soft blond hair moved with the light breeze of the wind. She took his rough, battle-harden hands in her own, kissing his scarred right forefinger gently. He resisted the urge to laugh aloud, winking at her and lowering his head in a bow.

She couldn't listen, she couldn't focus, she couldn't think. All she saw was the love of her life standing before her as they started on the first day of the rest of their lives. He clearly wasn't paying attention either—then again, when did he ever?—as the mischievous twinkle in his pure eyes symbolized that the heroic child was not yet grown up. No matter. Zelda would work on that. His boyhood and innocence was part of his charm. He was paying enough attention to say "I do" in a sweet way, running his hands down her arm as he always did. She grinned, giving a jubilant declaration of her own as she was finally able to kiss him. He pulled up her veil, bringing her into the greatest kiss she had ever experienced. She drew him in, hugging his shoulders tightly as her fingers caressed the tears in the worn but loved tunic he insisted on getting married in.

The crowd cheered and gave praise to their new King, congratulating the happy couple and eagerly anticipated Hyrule's Golden Age of peace.

As she lived in his kiss, all she saw was her husband, her King, and the love of her life.

He was a better kisser than he was a swordsman.

Now that was high praise.

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Evening couldn't be more terrifying.

Princess Zelda screamed, clinging onto her beloved groom as his blood, as crimson as the setting sun, stained her pearl white dress. She sobbed, shouting endless pleas for him to hold on, even though she knew her cries were falling on deaf ears. The guards, panicked and terrified, attempted to track down the assassin who attempted to murder the princess. Her groom, being the noble hero that he was, stood between Zelda and the blade. Waterfalls of tears streamed from the Princess's eyes as she attempted to gather her power to heal him. It wouldn't be enough, no, not even the Triforce of Wisdom could save Hyrule's Hero now. Doctors attempted to pull him away—no, no one could take him from her—as she continued to wail, clinging onto his body.

She wanted to hear his voice. She wanted for him to pull her into his arms. She yearned for his tender kiss. She wanted to hear those words.

For a moment, the battered hero opened his eyes and tried to speak, seeing his wife in distress.

The only sound was his desperate retching as his life left him.

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Midnight couldn't be more depressing.

Princess Zelda, filthy from her incessant sobbing and clothes stained crimson from his blood, waited outside on her castle balcony. She was no fool. She knew a fatal injury when she saw one. The moon, usually bright, seemed to be tinted with an orange hue. Zelda tore her already disheveled dress, cursing at the goddesses for allowing this to happen and scratching at herself for her own inability to act. Her nails, once white-tipped and perfectly filed, dug into her flesh as she was lost in her pain. When the assassin attacked, she froze. She didn't move. She was just as guilty for his plight as the assassin.

Memories flooded through her, images of her happily playing with her father. She saw herself growing up, falling in love with a courageous village boy who saved Hyrule and earned her love. She saw herself dancing in the meadows with him as he lounged by a tree, laughing gleefully as they basked in the afternoon sun. She saw the acts of passionate love as they grew closer and closer together. Her favorite memory was his bashful proposal, insisting that she should never marry a farmboy like him but he was going to screw the rules and ask anyways.

Her messenger appeared, informing her of his death.

It stung as if a million needles were stabbed into her body. She screamed, collapsing to the ground and cursing every single being responsible for his death. Handmaidens, soldiers, advisers alike attempted to console the princess, but to no avail.

Her soul died with him.

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Tomorrow couldn't be less lonely.

Princess Zelda did not sleep a wink, not moving from her balcony—the place she heard of his death—as the morning sun rose behind the grassy hills. The red glow the sun cast across Hyrule resembled a pool of blood. That was all Zelda could see. She could only see crimson.

Still inconsolable, depressed and alone, she staggered to her bedroom as if drunk, desperately creating a massive wall of pillows to make her bed appear smaller. When it didn't work, she angrily knocked the pillow wall down, berating it for being so worthless.

She ignored the worried talk of her servants as they bustled about, attempting to make the princess feel better in some way. She only angrily shoved them aside, only responding to a small, frightened young doctor in training who said something about the hero's last words.

Zelda bawled, screaming at the assistant for playing games with her. Her husband couldn't talk. He was too weak. He was too injured. He was suffering too much. It was all so clear in her mind, the memory stained by red.

The young assistant continued to insist that the hero did in fact managed to say something before he died. Zelda ignored him and buried her head in her tattered pillow, refusing to listen to a sound. Despite her attempts to shut him out, the words managed to reach her anyways.

She felt a soft, calming hand on her head and the assistant's voice nagging drawl morphed into a sweet, gentle tone.

"I love you."

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**Whoo. That was out of my comfort zone. Anyways, hope you enjoyed and please leave a review! It would make my day. Thank you!**


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